A Second Start
by Miss-ClaireIvy
Summary: William Afton has had a tough life, dealing with death and destruction ripping his family apart. After a few weeks of being employed at what he refers to as 'hell,' he finally snaps. How far will he spiral out of control before it's too much?
1. Chapter 1

Nails scratched across the hardwood surface, little splinters coming off and sinking into the skin. William's eye twitched as dark shadows loomed across his vision, seemingly never blinking. Explosions rippled through his ears, and his jaw clenched ever tighter; teeth grinding.

Breath coming out in huffs, he stood up running a hand through his hair. Across his body lay scars over scars, some intertwining and creating a patch of discoloured skin. Wobbling, he made it over to the wall and laid his head on it, resting slightly. "Fucking animatronics!" He screamed out as he punched the wall, plaster caving under his fist's motion.

William sunk to his knees, cradling his hand in his lap. "Fuck…" Hissing slightly, he inspected the joint. Blood and plaster coated it, some embodied within the cuts. Fingers were disjointed and lopsided, hanging at unnatural angles.

"I keep seeing them." He closed his eyes tight, several pictures flashing across his mind; a young girl's screams being cut off suddenly as a metallic covering came over her, a young boy who had his head crushed; rivets of blood dripping down his face as his eyes stayed wide and unseeing. Each of them had only been young. Young…and children he knew.

His family seemed to have the worst luck it seemed.

Today had been intense, having to reboot the electrical system so that those _monsters_ didn't go where they weren't supposed to. They had almost caught him as well.

'It's not like the boss would have cared though,' William thought 'Not if he still had those monstrosities.' His eyes opened, as his brows tightened, and drew closer together in anger.

A screech filled his ears and jumped, his eyes wide and his body pressed up against the wall, as his chest heaved. Adrenaline coursed through him as his took a chance and grabbed his gun. Hands shaking, he loaded it.

"Come out you fuckers!" He shouted, turning off the safety. "I'm not letting you scoop me!" His breath was running ragged, chest heaving and vision blurring.

A spurt of motion from his right, and the gun was fired; the bang ringing in William's ears as he stumbled disoriented. Holes stood out against the white walls, and he stood there in disbelief.

Sucking in a breath, he put the gun down. "What the fuck has this done to me?" His voice came out cracked. He shook his head "I think I need to go get cleaned up before my program's on."

Stepping inside the bathroom, he turned the shower on; icy water coming out of the taps. As he stood in the shower, he rubbed his face, splashing the water over him. Thoughts and sounds crashed through his mind, memories it seemed. Memories of work, of deaths, and of beings which haunted his worst nightmares.

It was almost laughable how much he thought about them, how close he came to death every day. A giggle escaped him, as he pondered more on this.

His hands clenched, gathering up parts of his hair as he began to laugh. His laugh was cold and empty as it echoed, rebounding back at him. It soon became a full-blown cackle, his stomach aching and lungs burning.

Death was such a hilarious topic. Such a fickle thing which people worried about. Young children don't worry about it though, only worrying about things only relating to _them_. What a selfish bunch.

Still laughing, he looked up into the mirror. Blood shot and purple rimmed eyes stared back at him. His hair was pulled back into braids, parts pulled out and hanging out lopsided. Bruises coated his skin, almost invisible unless you looked closely. His hand looked even worse under the lighting, the cuts almost illuminated and the blood glowing.

He was disgusting. ' _Worthless_ ,' he had heard more than once. He felt heavier as these thoughts intruded his mind, an emptiness filling him.

He grabbed his razor and raised it to his face, scraping off a bit of skin; blood seeping through almost immediately. Stings of pain filled his mind. The more he did it, the more punishment he gave himself, the better he could feel. Further cuts soon littered his face, blood dripping down into the drain. He stood there for a moment watching it, still feeing the nagging pains pulling at the back if his mind. He had needed this.

Shaking his head, William drew up to his full height, his loose strands of hair brushing the ceiling. When he looked in the mirror, he grimaced. He looked even worse now. 'More insane,' his brain helpfully supplied.

' _William Afton_ ,' he could hear his boss saying, ' _I hope you don't come to_ _ **my**_ _company and work with_ _ **my**_ _logo emblazoned across your shoulder in this condition._ ' He grinned, and his crooked teeth smiled back at him.

'What a time to be alive,' he thought, 'facing prejudice at my place of employment.' He laughed as he climbed out of the showers. Drying himself, he walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bowl, and his favourite box of popcorn.

After a second thought, the cupboard was opened, and a box of band aids and bandages were pulled out. The wounds took a while to tend to, his popcorn finishing long before he had finished. Band aids were applied, the cartoon smiley faces staring at him, and he removed the plaster from his skin, some imbedded in. Tying the bandage off on his fist, he grabbed the bag, pouring it into the bowl.

Throwing some in his mouth, he smiled; the perfect combination of salt and butter. The room he sat in was dark, some parts brighter from the light off the television but even those were only just allowed items to be seen.

One of those items included a photograph of a seemingly normal family. The photo was half shadowed in darkness, only very vague outlines were able to be seen, he paused with a piece of popcorn at his mouth.

The intro to The Young and the Restless began to play, his head snapping towards the noise. With one quick glance back at the photo, he settled down.


	2. Chapter 2

All William could see was darkness, an endless abyss surrounding him; suffocating him. He turned around.

"Where am I?" His voice echoed back at him, as the darkness leaked into his lungs. He coughed violently; every noise reflected at him, filling his ears.

He couldn't breathe; his nails clawing at his chest, long red lines being left behind. Everything was pain, every breath, every movement and he couldn't stand it.

"H...help me. Someone." William's voice sounded strained and almost at a whisper. It hurt to talk. "P…please."

As he fell to his knees, which slammed against the dark floor, the scenery began to change. Darkness turned into colour, and from there a familiar scenery. With the darkness gone, he could breathe, and he did so with several gasping breaths.

Cheery music played in the background, almost overpowered by the sound of people talking and laughing. Children ran past him, trying to tag each other as their parents yelled at them from the tables. Waiters bustled around, food held in stacks on their arms.

He remembered this, and knew it was a far cry from how it seemed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the animatronics preforming. Entertaining kids like how they used to before it all went to hell.

His mouth twisted into a sneer, as he caught sight of a golden animatronic. "It was all your fucking fault." His voice was much louder now. "You killed him, and…"

His voice shook, as he clenched his eyes which were swimming with tears.

"You destroyed my family, and I'll be glad when you finally get the ending you deserve."

William's fist wiped across his eyes, pressing hard enough that white dots burst into his vision. He took in a deep breath.

A sudden silence overtook him, and he froze; his hands resting against his face. The colour drained from all but him. Whimpers rang in his ears.

"Please stop. I promise I won't tell Dad." At that he turned around quickly.

A young boy was being dragged by an older male wearing a mask. The boy was crying fat, hot tears which were dripping down his face onto his shirt. Behind them stood three more teenagers, all of them wearing masks. Every single one of them stood out against the greyed background.

William's breath quickened.

"You wanna know what? I don't give a rat's ass whether or not you tell Dad." The group snickered. "So go ahead. Tell him." The boy was thrown to the ground, letting out a small yelp.

"Now what should I do to you? Because you made a fucking fool out of me, you know that? Guys, go find somethin', I'll keep him company." At his word, they all split off and ran in different directions.

The boy began to sob, his whole body shaking with tears. William clenched his fists tight, the nails digging into his palms.

One of the group members came running back. "How about we use the bots to give 'im a good scare." The boy trembled, his eyes wide as he mouthed 'no,' his head shaking from side to side.

The elder pulled his mask up and smirked. "What a wonderful idea, ain't it bro? I mean, might as well say hi to them while we're 'ere. Dear old dad made them, didn't he?"

He pulled the mask back down, Foxy's face staring back at the boy who had begun to cry silently; tears trickling down his face.

"No, no, no, no, no." William couldn't look away no matter how hard he tried. He had to watch it play out in front of him without being able to interfere, but he didn't know if he could handle seeing it.

It was unbearably slow. The screams were coming out of the boy's mouth, his voice shrill and his face deathly white as he was dragged towards the animatronics.

 _How has no one noticed this happening?!_ William's thoughts were frantic. _They should have stopped it by now._

He knew it was in vain though, it was the show's break and the animatronics were behind a curtain. Loud conversations drowned out the screams.

"Please! I'm sorry, I'm…I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!" Every single word felt like a hit, he could practically feel the pain and it felt real.

"It was an accident! I can just tell them it was me! I can…I can…" The boy swallowed, his rapid-fire speech slowed down almost instantly. "Please. I know you wouldn't do this. You don't mean it." He was scraping for anything now.

"Shut up!" The foxy masked boy shouted, his eyes fiery and voice deathly. "If you make another sound, it's going to get a lot worse. So just SHUT! UP!"

He slammed his fist on a board near him, everyone going silent. He clenched his jaw, and kept moving closer, the other following behind him occasionally casting worried glances at each other.

At last they reached the robots, their hulking figures almost dwarfing the group's.

"Help me lift him up." The command was followed, and the boy was lifted in the air, his screams and cries ignored.

William watched this in horror, as the group was asked repeatedly to stop, almost dropping their load more than once because of how much it was struggling.

Slowly, the boy's head was moved closer to the bear, his hair brushing against the teeth. His head was almost instantly shoved in the mouth, his hands moving up to grab onto something in a desperate attempt to get free.

The teenagers let go and watched him dangle, their laughter filling the air as they pulled off their masks. Cruel smirks filled William's mind.

The boy wriggled, and muffled screams escaped him. His hands were desperate to find something to help him get out, his legs kicking through the air. Roaming hands found a lever, which at first glance seemed solid enough to help him get free. With all his power, the boy pushed the lever.

A crunch filled the air as blood began to drip down the golden fur of the bear. The jaw had shifted down. The group stopped laughing, the faces ashen and eyes wide. This wasn't what they planned.

The main boy ran forward, and his hands grasped the two parts of the jaw, desperately trying to ease them open. "No!" His hands began to stain scarlet. "This…this wasn't part of the plan."

William was silent through this, his hands over his mouth.

With unmeasurable strength, the jaws were eased open; the wires snapping and the fabric ripping.

The boy dropped to the ground, his skull caved in and eyes unseeing. Blood pooled around him, growing larger by the second.

William screamed.


	3. Chapter 3

William shot up, his heart beating widely in his chest and his pupils shrunk to pinpricks. Visions of pools of blood flashed before his eyes, the liquid seeping across the surface it had covered in his mind.

He could hear a smashing noise in the distance, as something fell off his lap, but he paid it no mind. His hands were shaking while pressed against his head, he could feel it and it was all he could do to not concentrate on what he had just seen. Or what his brain had made up.

He had remembered it…somehow. He had remembered IT. The one thing he didn't want to remember. One of the things he still couldn't get out of his mind.

William could almost remember everything that happened before and after the event; the details stark and pristine in his memory. He remembered the feelings and the smells. How much he, himself, had clung to the body once he saw what had happened.

Shivers wracked his body and sweat trickled down his face. As he sat there, his lips lifted at the corners.

A quiet, almost subtle laugh bounced its way out of him, being silenced by The Young and The Restless still playing in the background. William's hand lifted to his mouth, covering it as more giggles came out.

With each second, the giggles seemed to be getting louder and louder, until they weren't giggles anymore.

Full blown laughter echoed through the room, drowning out the television, it still being able to be faintly heard. His body shook with laughter and tears streamed down his face; fading into a light red colour as they interceded with the blood which had marred his face from earlier.

His lungs were aching, and his vision blurred. _What was happening? What WAS HAPPENING?_ He couldn't see anything, his sight limited and almost cloaked in a never-ending darkness.

He collapsed, his knees striking the floorboards harshly. He was dizzy, and his stomach was clenching tightly.

"Oh god…" His voice was strained and whispered, as he tried to fight the nausea which was threatening to over take him. It burned, the acid cutting into his throat. He couldn't hold it any longer.

William watched as the liquid spread across his floor, eerily like the red liquid that he had almost just seen doing that. His stomach contains twirled together almost as if it was a dance.

He blinked.

The darkness was gone when he opened his eyes; everything that didn't belong there was. His knelt there shaking slightly as he blinked away the tears which threatened to build up. Sniffling, he wiped his fist across his face, smearing any substance which may have marred it.

He didn't particularly care, he had work in a few hours and as much as he dreaded going back there, he needed the income.

He wasn't going to last much longer though, no matter what he did. It's just what happened to the Aftons it seemed. They all seemed to meet the same fate.

A dark figure stood out of the corner of William's eye, shaped like a certain clown he knew. Jumping, he slammed his back against his chair which he had only been sitting in hours earlier.

"Come on out you motherfucker." His voice was steady.

Nothing moved, and nothing appeared to be the dark form he had only seen just moments ago.

There was nothing to be seen as he scanned the room, nothing to hide behind and no dark shaped. Just _nothing._

He could almost see the robots glowing eyes looking at him, as he curled up into a small ball, his knees high against his chest.

"What is wrong with me?"


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't believe I have to go to this shit."

Frustrated was an underestimate, William was pissed. Back at the job he hated, nightmares plaguing his sleep, and memories reoccurring.

As the lights blinked off, he groaned, grinding his teeth and slamming his head on the desk as HandUnit sounded from the speakers overhead.

"There seems to be a power malfunction- "

William snorted.

"Please stand by while I reboot the system. I will be offline momentarily during this process. Various other systems may be offline as well, such as security doors, vent locks, and oxygen- "

His breath hitched. "Wait, what."

"Commencing system restart."

As the voice vanished and breathing became more difficult, he sat there; the air getting thicker by the minute. He couldn't breathe; the oxygen shut off and his rapid breaths quickly dispersing the remaining oxygen.

William's head felt fuzzy, almost as if he was swimming in honey; sticky and hard to move. His mind was slowed, and his heart rate sped up; helping to remove the oxygen.

Closing his eyes, William chanted a common phrase in his head, one that had been overused across the years of being involved with the restaurant, even some select few childhood memories.

 _This is fine. I'm gonna be fine. Just don't think about how everything secure is gone, or the fact that there are killer robots-_

"Animatronics"

His head shot up, trying to focus on the source of the voice despite not being able to differentiate between a desk and a cup right now.

His heart was racing and sweat was trickling down his forehead and various other parts of his body. Anything could happen in the dark, in THESE establishments.

There was no movement, every surrounding and every piece of machinery was stock still. No whirrs, no ticks, just silence. It made him uneasy, his heart beating rapidly as he sucked in his breath, holding it for what he was worth. There was going to be hell if he survived this.

If he listened carefully he could hear faint echoes, a mixture between footsteps and voices. Almost as if someone was pacing while speaking or if there was a group of people inside.

 _This isn't in my job description._ William stood slowly, his back cracking in places as his spine adjusted to being straight. The air felt heavy as he tiptoed to the sound, his footsteps making the occasional scuffing noise on the ground.

He felt as if he just signed his death sentence.

As he moved closer the sounds gradually got louder, as well as quieter in certain places; a mix between close and far away.

It confuses him and more than once, he turns and goes in the wrong direction before eventually turning and going closer to the noise.

It doesn't take long, the confined space of his office and the place he's allowed to go make it easy to find the source, and he finds himself standing in front of glass, Baby's auditorium placed right through the glass, allowing him to identify a dark form as the animatronic herself.

Looking at her in the dark fascinates him, finally able to see the animatronics themselves when they aren't…functional.

The way he prefers them honestly.

At least then they can't touch him, and he has full control; able to disassemble them at ease. They're practically putty in his hands.

William stands there for a minute, his breaths finally steady and his heart rate slowed. It's just him and Baby, and HE has the upper hand.

Occasionally there's a flash of light; bright green light filtering through the glass and blinding him momentarily but every time he opens his eyes, the light is gone, and the room is back to pitch black.

"You will now be required- "

"SON OF A BITCH!" He jumps, turning quickly and his hand thrown against his chest as he bangs against the edge of the desk painfully, his tailbone crying out in protest at its mistreatment.

"To crawl through the Ballora gallery using the vent to your left to reach the breaker room." The HandUnit continues, seemingly oblivious to the panic caused.

"It couldn't give me some kind of FUCKING WARNING?!" He's furious and his words are coming out in hisses covered in a spray of venom.

"It is recommended that you stay low to the ground, and reach the other side as fast as possible, as to not disturb Ballora. I will deactivate myself momentarily, as to not create an auditory disturbance. Deactivating..."

As silence once again fills his ears, William stands, his head buried in his hands, as he tries to calm his beating heart. His tailbone's aching and he's had more heart attacks tonight than he ever has, which can't be good for his health.

"Go through the Ballora gallery?" He sighs, "Sure, I don't think I've had enough heart attacks tonight."

Crawling through the vent is tedious, his every move broadcast back into his ears and every breath creates an echo that seems ten times louder than the original. Even the voice announcing his arrival pierces his head, digging its way into his mind, creating a dull throb.

As he arrives in the next room, he's surprised by the faint light which fills the room allowing a few feet of floor to be seen. The light surrounds a hatch, which is small and seemingly leading to a dark expanse.

"Well, might as well get to hell early. Ma's always getting up me for being late." He shrugs his shoulders and squats down, his face directly inline with the top of the hole.

A light breeze passes his face, the air icy cold. _I always thought hell would be hot or even at the very least not a fucking ice bucket._ He shivers as he rubs his arms trying to preserve any body warmth.

As his hands touch the metal plating of the floor inside the tunnel, he shivers, and a voice fills his head once again.

"When you crawl through Ballora Gallery, go slowly-" It's spoken in a whisper, almost as if it's speaking to his very being.

"She cannot see you and can only listen for your movement. When you hear her music become louder, she is growing near, listening for you-"

 _Listening for me?!_ His thoughts are panicked. _What kind of fucking robots are these?! This is INSANE!_

"Wait and be still." With that, the voice is gone and William is once again left in silence, only his own organs and his breath able to be heard.

He's fully in the tunnel by now, and his knees are staring to ache, having been pressed in the same spot of metal for a few minutes by now; his age starting to catch up with him.

Crawling through the tunnel is nerve-racking and the fact that something's going to be listening, _hunting_ , him makes it even worse.


	5. Chapter 5

_Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy FUCK._

Adrenaline pumps through his body, sweat trickling down his forehead as William is stock still on the ground, his arms shaking slightly.

"Is someone there?" The words echo through the hall, seemingly coming from every direction before making its way to his ears.

He swallows, his eyes shut tightly.

"I can hear someone creeping though my room…" The scraping of metal sounds, almost impossibly close, and he starts to shake.

Small beads of sweat splash on the floor, dotting his hands, and seeping its way into small cuts which he hadn't realised existed.

 _Please don't let me die…_

She's so close to him, Ballora, and he can feel the disturbance in the air as she makes her way past him. William holds his breath.

He could almost reach out and…no. NO. nO.

Why would he do that? She'd rip him to pieces instantly, the amount of times he's seen that happen. But. He wouldn't feel anything after the first few seconds. It'd be over quickly.

Thoughts float in and out of his head as he debates his options.

 _Should I move? Or…survive._

His mind is made up for him, as the scraping of metal is final gone, Ballora leaving a few parting words.

"Perhaps not."

He could almost cry in relief, but he needs to keep moving.

Torch in hand, and opening his eyes just in case, he scuttles along the floor. His shoes making occasionally scuffing noises as they're dragged across the lino floor.

Sometimes when he listens hard enough, he's still able to hear Ballora in the distance; the familiar scraping of the metal as she glides across the floor almost as if she's in a trance.

If he wasn't scared out of his mind, he might be more tempted to just turn and watch, but that day is not today, and he needs to go.

 _Get this fucking job done, so we can leave_.

The presence of his thoughts are almost comforting in this silence, if not for one thing, they signal that he's alive. That he hasn't been torn up yet.

 _Yet._ He sighs, stopping momentarily to run his hand through his hair in an attempt to slick it back.

It doesn't work.

Shakily getting to his feet, he looks around slowly, flashlight in hand.

 _Alright, she fucking isn't around. That's good._ He exhales. A clang sounds behind him.

He stills, his spine straight as a rod with every hair standing straight up. His heart is beating fast, the sound pounding in his ears, soon becoming the only sound he can hear.

Eyes are staring at hm, he can feel it. Feel the tiny pricks that accompany the feeling. Feel the danger he may be in.

In front of him stands a door, a thick heavy one, which conceals the entrance to the breaker room. His fingers twitch.

 _I need to get in there_

Beads of sweat run down his face as he nervously chews on his bottom lip. He could actually die. Right here, right now. In this shitty hall, and in this shitty room. He really doesn't want that.

Slowly, he reaches his arm out, his fingers getting closer and closer towards the doorknob; to his salvation.

William gulps.

His nerves are shot, and he's riding high on fear. Even as he brings his hand up, he can see how much it's actually shaking.

All too slow, he grasps the door knob, feeling the cool metal beneath his hand, and he turns it. The door almost bounces open, slamming against the wall behind it.

He stiffens, and he can hear the slight scraping of metal and the distant playing of a music box behind him.

This is his one chance; to get away from her, and to get the power back on. To not die, and to actually see his remaining child when he comes home.

Looking in the black abyss past the door, he places the torch in between his teeth and takes his chance.


End file.
